Mythical (The Mystical Series Book 2) (9 page)

“Cool. So you send off your trash for us to take care of,” I say. “We’re your own garbage disposal.”

Christian steps aside, staring at me, and Miss Canary glances up from her book. “Who are you talking about?” she asks.

“Witches.”

“Yes…and no.” She grins. “They choose to leave and become corrupt themselves, so we’re not technically pushing them out for witches to kill.”

“But they’re not allowed to go back to the place they once called home.”

“Correct.” She walks in between the fairy images.

“So why are you showing us them?”

“Fairies and mermaids are the only mystics we allow to live here in Ellevil, but they’re distant from us. Fairies are rather extrovert, and mermaids, well, they’re annoying with their singing, so we don’t get along that well.”

I remember the time my mom killed the corrupt fairy that attacked Dawn and me on the strip after school, saving both of us.

“You’ll find that pure fairies are different, Eliza.” She chuckles. “Which brings me to your next task.”

She glides toward a dark green vase and pulls out a glowing gold rose, different than the one she’s given to Christian and me. My markings on the side of my stomach are starting to hurt. Miss Canary glances at Christian as he moves toward me. The feeling fades away, and I lose my train of thought.

“This needs to be delivered to Warren Vasaloff, the King of Fairies,” she says.

“Now I’m a messenger?”

She hands me the rose. “You both are.”

“Why is it glowing?” I ask curiously. “Didn’t you say mystic kingdoms are different than what humans thought they were? Why is there a king of fairies?”

“It’s a protective charm for their kingdom. Every kingdom has a particular charm to keep their home invisible from humans, corrupt mystics, and the Verel,” she explains.

I remember about reading that witch gang too. Male witches, using females to carry their young and then eventually corrupting or killing them off. I hope I never run into one. I don’t know how exactly I’ll be able to handle myself. Will I kill them? Become submissive? I don’t want to be
that
witch, that stupid rookie Donovan calls me.

“Part of your answer to my kingdom question was true. There are kings and queens who run their kind. Without order we’d have corrupt mystics ruining the world.”

I want to ask her about the myths and more about witches being corrupt, like my mother, or even about the Verel. There are many things I want to ask, but she claps her hands together as a sweet flower scent rushes throughout the room, and the orbs create an image in front of the three of us. The ocean I noticed from the big window outside of my room and the wide grassy field with the forest appears.

“Step onto the waves of the ocean, and the fairy kingdom will dissolve in front of you,” she says.

I shoot Christian a glare. I’m not too keen on him coming on this adventure with me. He’s tried to kill me numerous times and is messing with my mind continuously. I’m uncomfortable as he walks behind me, holding my waist. I get out of his grip, watching Miss Canary carefully. She walks by us, gliding out of the clear domed room.

Christian walks out of the bubble. He runs into the forest against the snow, disappearing.

***

It’s a new day and things at Ellevil are becoming stranger by the second. I’ve received fresh new green tattoos, my hair is now an ashy blonde, and my freezing condition is getting out of control. The snow is falling from the purple and blue sky above me. My boots smoosh into the snow as I walk back toward the entrance of the castle, my elvish Hell.

The transformation finalized its stages when I kissed Donovan, which was rather odd. I had to become sexual in order to complete it. Donovan, of course, kept certain things from me. The strange events started to happen when Christian’s body was forced on top of me in my room.

I press my cold hands against the doors. No one’s here with me. Finally I can relax and get myself together. I step forward. My room’s upstairs and there’re a bunch of elves living inside this castle. I haven’t noticed that this large staircase in front of me leads further down, I’m guessing into a basement. Or it would be wrong of me to call it that; let’s say
dungeon
for shits and giggles.

The elf is coming up the stairs; it’s Emily Woods.

I act like I’m doing something. She doesn’t recognize me and fades into the shadows. Miss Canary says that Emily’s been with Donovan. Can this mean he is down those stairs? I hear a door shut somewhere in the direction Emily has gone.

I rush over to the staircase, looking back to see if she’ll return or not. Figuring that she isn’t, I walk down the steps, my wet boots squeaking. Everything becomes darker by the second, and the staircase fades away as I get deeper. There’s a large black door ahead of me, and I step down from the last step. My breath clouds in front of me; it’s colder down here.

I make way toward the door, hearing chains rattle and a cough from inside. I open the door, following a tunnel-like path. There are several jail cells along this path. I walk by an elf standing still, watching me.

Someone collides against bars behind me. An elf’s hand sticks through the tiny horizontal space between the bars. He’s reaching out for me with his markings around his fingers and wrist glowing. He grips my hair from behind, pulling me back against another jail cell. I release a loud grunt.

“We haven’t seen another witch down here in a while,” he says, yanking on my hair. I reach my arm back, forcing myself free from his grip.

“Rose?” says a raspy voice not too far from where I am standing.

“Donovan?” I walk further down the path, breaking into a run. “Donovan? Donovan!”

The elves laugh, mimicking me.

I hear chains scratching on the floor.

“Shut the hell up, idiot,” someone snaps.

Donovan’s lips are cut, swollen, and there are bruises on his face and chest. He’s shirtless in this freezing basement.

“Oh my God, Donovan!” I grasp the icy bars of his cell and look down at the lock, trying to figure out how to open it, the commotion echoing.

“Stop it. You can’t get the cell open.” Donovan coughs, his chains scraping against the floor.

“What have they done to you?”

“Your hair. Rose, something about you is different…”

“I can’t remember the reason why they took you away yesterday.” I focus back on the lock, trying to break him out.

“What did you say?” He walks over to the bars.

“Yesterday they forced you out of my room, and I don’t know why.”

“Look at me.”

I don’t.

“Rose, look at me.”

I look up, seeing the wounds on his body and his unmanaged beard. His icy blue eyes freeze the space between us. “They really did get to you. Your posture is different, your hair…you’re not yourself.” He looks deeply confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Christian’s been manipulating you to think it’s only been a day.” He stares at me. “He’s been messing with your mind. It’s been a month since I’ve been down here.”

“That’s impossible.” He sticks his hand through the bars, and I grab it. A burning feeling travels through me, a burn that doesn’t burn, but soothes my mind. Everything gradually comes back to me. Donovan was taken away because of the fight in my room. He’s somehow breaking into whatever dream I’ve been in.

“Are you okay? Look at me.” He glances away. “Look at me, Donovan. Are you okay? What have they done to you down here?”

“Did you feel that?”

“Yes, it was a warm feeling.”

He looks up at me. “That’s how I’ve been feeling without you.”

My heart thuds at the realization that Christian’s behind all of this.

“Listen to me, Rose. I don’t know what’s going on here. I don’t think they’re ever planning on letting us leave. You need to keep acting like you don’t know anything.”

“Christian…he’s so…”

“He’s not like the rest of the elves here. That’s why Miss Canary favors him the most.”

“It’s like everything he does pulls me in, and I’m trapped and weak around him.” I look at Donovan’s crusty fingernails. “Sometimes I feel like…like I have feelings for him.”

“He’s an elf. That’s what they do.” He rubs his thumb on the surface of my hand.

“I can’t believe it’s been a month.”

“Get yourself together, rookie.”

“I’m trying.”

The prisoners in the holding cells snicker.

“You can’t always depend on me.”

“What if I was starting to like it?” I ask.

“Focus on fitting in. Find answers. And kill whatever gets in your way. I’ll be all right.” He coughs. “You can’t trust him, no matter how nice he is. There’s a reason why Miss Canary clings to him the most. Your mission is to find out why.”

Donovan’s eyes slide to the right, and I step to the side, a second too late I know when I feel the tip of an arrow brush past my shoulder. Another flies through the air; this time I catch it, seeing Emily strut toward me.

“Well, golly gee, look who’s awake now.”

I was waiting for this rematch. It’s finally time to show him what I’m capable of.

Chapter 9

I’m pleased to know that I’m not going psychotic. The mint smell travels back into my nostrils; it’s coming from Emily. Every mystic here isn’t pure; some are corrupt, and I’m going to unveil the mystery of who they are. Emily doesn’t look corrupt, and from what I’ve seen, their whole appearance changes. They’re evil, dark, and bloodthirsty, feeding on purity and your innocence, turning you into a mindless killer like them.

She walks over toward me, rubbing her index finger on the bars of the jail cell. The two elves I’ve walked by snarl, moving away from her. She snaps her bow in half, dropping it to the floor, then kicking it. She cracks her knuckles and rolls her neck, grinning down at me.

The wounds on Donovan’s skin are deep and jagged, and I know that she’s behind them.

“Did I hurt your little boyfriend?” Emily glares at him. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

She continues walking, breaking into a fierce run. I release my grip from the bars and duck, dodging her first blow.

I’m predicting her next strike; she’s going to go for my head. She reaches for me, and I throw my arm up, blocking her attack. Emily stumbles back, realizing how well I’ve adapted. Twirling around with a roundhouse kick, I throw her against a crumbling wall.

She can’t really use any powers, and it was all a lie about her training me. She’s a lower class elf. The two other prisoners are salivating, whistling in anticipation of a deadly fight.

Emily grips my neck and jabs her knee into my gut. I wrap my fingers around her wrist.

I have to maintain control and stay focused. I head-butt the elf, knocking her to the floor. I bend down, holding onto a fistful of her hair, dragging her. Spinning her legs around, she trips me. I roll to my side, missing her kick. I block another attack with my right arm and see her other arm darting in the air. I raise my hands, blocking that blow as well, and shove her away from me.

She’s confused and angry and surprised. I punch her face, knocking her down again.

She lifts up her leg, kicking me across the tunnel, and snatches up a rusty black cell bar. She aims for my face with her weapon and runs toward me. The metal rings on the ground when she misses my face.

I know she’s going for my neck next, so I hold up my hands to block the impact of the blow. Her sharp teeth become visible from her mouth as her lips quiver in frustration.

“Show me what you’ve got.” I snatch the weapon from her and jab her face with its end. Blood pools in the gash I’ve created. She laughs, pressing her back against the wall behind her.

“You’re never going to be free. Christian’s always going to know where you are, always going to be able to feel your thoughts and emotions.” Her eyes flash emerald green. “There’s no escape. You’re already his.”

She cartwheels across the distance between us, picking up her broken bow. I don’t care what she has to say about Christian. I’m no one’s and that’s how it will always be.

Twirling around elegantly, she manages to cut my cheek with the broken wood of her bow. I slam the end of my bar against her face, and she collides against the wall, snapping her neck. Gurgling sounds come from her throat; she’s not dead yet. I glance over at Donovan, who’s been standing silently, freezing inside his cage.

My anger fills within me once more at seeing him this way. I grab Emily, turning her belly up. Her eyes are fading back into their normal color.

I open my mouth, releasing a distressed moan. Bringing down the bar, I smash it against her, feeling the end pierce her heart. She bursts into a green mist. Donovan is staring at me.

“Definitely changed,” he says. I don’t know if that’s supposed to be good or bad. “It’s sexy.”

The prisoners talk among themselves, growing excited once they see she’s dead.

“You can’t stay down here, Donovan. You’re not a mystic like them.” I raise my bar, getting ready to bash it down against the lock.

“Rose, you can’t.”

I bring the bar down hard, and when the metals clash together, an electric buzz sends a burst of green light into my weapon and all the way up my arm. My body blasts away from Donovan’s cell, and I land on my ass with a loud grunt.

“If you weren’t so impulsive, you’d know that this cell is hexed with elf magic.”

Donovan walks to sit on the bench in his cell, the chains clanking against the ground.

I lift my arm, seeing the electric waves still around my fingers. They tingle but do not hurt. I walk over to the cell, my markings reacting to the power that’s been infused. Frost is developing on Donovan’s beard.

“I’m getting you out of here.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“Where’s your broomstick?” I ask.

“That elf took it.”

“Who?”

He rubs his hands together, and I can see redness forming around his wrist from the tight metal. “Miss Canary,” he sighs.

“I suppose mine is with her?” I shiver, though the green elastic fabric I’m wearing keeps me warm. “They ripped off your elf shirt, wanting you to die from the cold.”

“Obviously.” He tries not to press his bare back against the wall. I can only imagine the frostbite that could develop within mere minutes.

“Stick to the plan. Do whatever she wants you to.” I step back. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“You might want to take that bar with you,” he says.

My senses pick up the slightest movements from above. “They’re coming down here. I need to get out before they catch me.”

I pick up the bar and walk in the direction from where I came.

“Rose.” I stop walking and glance back. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Hey, we’re in love with you too. How bout cha let us out too?” an elf whispers to me. I bang my bar on his cell as he scurries away. I don’t have much time; I need to leave. I don’t want to but I can’t risk Christian finding out I’ve been down here, or else he’ll send me back to dreamland. Closing the doors, I creep back up the staircase, exhaling at the last step. I keep walking up until I’ve reached the second floor.

“There you are, beautiful. You aren’t that hard to get, so why play it?” Christian appears in front of me.

I avoid his eyes, brushing past him. I remember I have to play the part. I stop walking to twist around. “You’re right,” I say, “because I’m already yours.”

He’s at first surprised but takes the opportunity to pull me into a hug. I wrap my arms around his slim neck. “We have errands to run.”

I smirk to myself, because he has no idea that soon he will die, murdered by me.

He takes my hand and walks with me to my room. We enter, and I take off my shirt, walking over to the closet.

“Do you have the rose for Vasaloff?” I ask.

He tosses the rose on my bed. He’s now taking off his shirt, his green markings on his sides and abdomen glowing. I can’t fall into temptation around him. He thinks I’m still under his charm.

“Do you hear that?” he asks.

“Hear what?”

Christian closes in on me, then his cold hands are on my waist, turning me around gently.

“That,” he says.

I try to control my breathing. My jeans are rubbing against my thighs harshly, his mint smell is pervading my senses, my mouth becomes dry, and my muscles tense.

His eyes drop down to my cleavage. “You’re nervous.”

He presses his thumbs lightly on the sides of my neck and pushes me against the closet door.

“Why are you nervous?” He’s trying to manipulate me again, like he’s been doing all along.

I push back everything inside of me to fight against giving him eye contact, hoping not to fall into any sort of temptation. I reach for a thicker elf shirt and stick my head through the little hole.

I push past Christian and walk toward the bed, picking up the weapon and the rose I’m to deliver. He watches me move around him, enjoying this little game we’re playing. I glare up at him, keeping my composure. He unbuttons his pants and drops his shorts. Ignoring him, I tie my hair into a ponytail and pull on my coat.

He chuckles to himself, walking into the closet. I remember what Emily said about him, before I killed her in the holding area. He’s always going to know where I am; he’s always going to be in my mind and feel what I’m feeling.

You’re already his.

I walk over to the door and out of the room. My bar is in my hand, and yes it could be a bit weird to the rest of these elves here in this strange place. I need something to protect me when I’m outside alone with him. He’s almost killed me twice. I remember his black eyes on top of me; I remember the blood he craved and the special rose he punctured me with.

Christian is walking behind me. He can feel the emotions inside of me, and I push my thoughts deep inside to block them from him. I glance over the edge of the balustrade, overlooking the atrium. It’s still daylight, so we have enough time to get through the weather before a storm comes raging through. Enough time to escape this magical asylum I’m trapped in.

I unzip my jacket, checking if the rose is okay. While I hate Donovan for telling me to play the part of Christian’s love interest, I know it’s only for the best, to save us both from this mystical hell. There’s so much inside of me that wants to punch his face in. I want so badly to stab his heart and just get it over with. I stick the rose back into one of the pockets inside my coat.

Christian is staring at me. He’s wearing nothing but a dark green shirt and white scarf.

“You’re in the right attire for a day like this,” I remark and head down the stairs.

“Why do you have to be uptight with me all the time, Eliza? What happened to our agreement?”

Anger boils inside, because I know of our agreement; it’s to kill him in the end. I reach the bottom of the steps.

“Nothing happened to it. I’m saying you’re dressed like it’s warm outside.” I walk over and open the two main doors of the castle.

“I’m an elf, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I’m aware of what you are.”

“Then you should know that we practically live in the woods. Look around you.”

“No one’s here. They’re out and about.”

“Why?”

“Because a storm is coming and we love those. It’ll pass by soon. Maybe tonight if anything. The weather here is funny like that.”

We step outside, pushing into a harsh wind, and Christian closes the door after us. My senses are muffled somehow, and there’s a grip around my sides, helping me walk through the snow. I look up at Christian focused on what’s in front of us. I remove his arm from around me.

“We need to get to the ocean.”

“I know, I was there with you,” he says, his voice muffled from the wind. Snow scratches against my cheeks, and my lips frost up.

“What?” I say.

He shakes his head, flicking snowflakes off his hair. He’s leading me toward the forest, where the pink and green leaves are dead. The wood is dry, and I can see clearly the frozen ocean in the distance ahead of us. He guides me in another direction.

“Christian, what are you doing?” I turn back around to go the right way. We’re going uphill, but my boots slide on the ice beneath the snow and I fall face forward. Christian catches me.

“We can’t go this way.”

“Yes we can. Let go of me.”

“You almost tripped, and there’s going to be too much ice beneath this snow.” His scarf is fluttering in the wind. I should trust him only because he’s the elf here and I’m not.

“I’m not going to kill you, Eliza.”

I know that’s a lie. He nearly bled me to death on my bed with a freaking rose once. He holds out his hand for me to take.

“Are you going to mess with my mind?”

He laughs at me. “No. I only do that to you because you’re so gullible.”

“Well that isn’t nice. Give me another reason why I shouldn’t kill you.”

“Because we’re stuck together for life?”

“If you cared for me, you’d let me know where my broomstick is!” I shout into the wind.

“That’s the thing—I don’t. Are you going to come with me or die here alone?”

We’ve drifted away pretty far. I remember being in the ocean with Mom when I was a kid. Dad was never in our lives; he’d always been on business trips. Mom found out I was becoming depressed, so she bought me a bunch of pretty seashells to collect.

There used to be this one particular seashell beside my bed; it was ugly and gray with jagged edges. I swear I could hear the mermaid’s voices, sometimes singing me awake. That’s why it was so special to me. All the other ones I didn’t hear anything from, so I didn’t care for them as much. She took me on my first beach visit, and boy was I excited. I thought Ariel the mermaid was in the ocean.

I glance down at the snow and at the trail behind us and grin, remembering that moment on the beach with Mom.

I dived into the water and got stuck on the sand, and then for some reason Mom got up and raced toward me. There was a huge wave from behind, rolling up in the air. I turned around with my legs and hands glued in the sand.